Best Bet

“THANK YOU AGAIN, TONY,” STEVE told the brunet as they sat in the library, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. They had just finished with another tutoring session. “I don’t really know where I would be right now without you.”

No matter what during tutoring, Tony had always been respectful. Always been understanding about how Steve didn't understand the topics as easily as others around them. Without him there to teach the blond, he would have probably already been kicked off the football team. And in some serious debt.

“Don’t mention it, Rogers.” Tony dismissed his gratefulness with a small shrug. A smirk came upon his lips, and suddenly Steve knew he was about to say something stupid. Or cocky. “A genius like me--”

He had taken the cocky route. Steve rolled his eyes, “I take it back.”

He couldn’t deny that Tony was indeed a genius. He could very easily get the highest grades out of every student on campus. Hell, he didn’t even need a degree to be qualified for any job.

“What? You can’t just take it back.”

“Oops. I already did.”

Tony laughed, getting up out of his chair and pushing it back into its original spot. “Your stubbornness is refreshing, really. Take a walk with me?”

Steve got out of his chair also, shrugging at Tony. “I have to go back to my dorm tonight, Tony. Bucky will be--”

Tony raised a hand and interrupted the blond, “Worried, yes, I know. I already texted him. He is completely aware that you’ll be back a little late. No need to stress it, blue eyes.”

Steve gulped, biting the edge of his lip. Tony was already planning on taking him out for a walk? “I’ll go. But… how did you get Bucky’s number?”

“Same answer to how I got yours. Except I asked one of his friends.”

They exited the library together, the blond following close behind Tony. The night air outside blew in his face and in his hair, blowing it back. Steve wrapped his arms together over his chest. He looked over cautiously at the brunet, accidentally making eye contact. He looked away immediately, a blush coming over his face.

“Like what you see?” Tony asked him jokingly as they walked, smiling. Steve could only feel the red on his face deepening. Tony knew about it too.

“Y--yeah. No! Wait-- I am not trying to be rude, I meant yes. Maybe? You are very good looking and… and a nice view. I was basically just trying to say that--” Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands, “God, this is embarrassing. You-- you’re cute,” he blurted out, his eyes wide.

“You are too, you know.”

His heart started to beat inhumanly fast. “What?” Steve uncovered his face, peeking over at Tony. The brunet was looking out into the distance, purposefully avoiding eye contact.

Did Tony Stark just say he was cute too?

“Nothing,” Tony shook his head. “You want ice cream? That place right over there stays open till’ eleven.” He had his finger pointed at a small place across the street. The outside was decorated in fairy lights, with what looked like paintings on the outsides of the window. The buildings next to it were closed for the day, making it look ever more tempting.

“We haven't even eaten dinner yet,” Steve said.

“I swear, you are so old fashioned. Have you ever eaten ice cream for breakfast before?”

“I have. I’m just used to eating more food because I’m working out all the time.”

“Then just… eat more ice cream.”

“Will do, Stark. Will do.”

✰

STEVE, IF ANYTHING, WANTED THIS moment to last forever. (And a new coffee machine.) It was just him, Tony and their almost empty ice cream bowls against the world. Anything was possible now that they were here, laughing at stupid jokes loudly in one of the quietest places on campus.

“You like gummy bears on your ice cream?” Tony asked him, his nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Um, yes. It’s absolutely delicious!” Steve exclaimed, taking a spoonful from his bowl and motioning it towards the brunet. “Here, you can try it.”

“The gummy bears are probably frozen!” Tony told him, leaning away.

“Why don’t you just try it?” 

And Tony had the audacity to call him the stubborn one.

“Fine.” Without taking the spoon from the blonds hand, he put his mouth on it, retreating back slowly. The taller boy stared at him eating the ice cream, eyes wide. Did Tony do that on purpose, or was he just plain creepy?

“Is-- is it good?” He stuttered out.

“I would say no to be difficult, but it’s actually… kinda okay.”

“I knew it!”

“Gentlemen,” the woman from behind the counter called to them. “Could you please try to be a tad quieter?”

They both left the ice cream shop after that, spending the rest of their night in peace. Tony ended up walking Steve back to his dorm, since it was the polite thing to do.

Before knocking to have Bucky let him in, Steve looked over at Tony. “I’ll see you on Sunday?”

“I’ll see you on Sunday.”

✰

TONY WASN’T ONE FOR THE college football type of scene. The brunet walked carefully through the thickening crowd, looking for the gate number on his ticket. D. He wandered around hopelessly, trying his best to see over the tall figures that stood next to him.

A person from behind bumped into him, sending Tony forward with a jolt.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized. 

“Watch it,” they told him in response, pushing their way through. He said nothing in return, and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t worth the fight.

So yeah, he wasn’t used to this type of thing. At all. 

His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, so Tony retrieved it from the hand-made front pocket on his mom jeans. Natasha.

“Did you miss me, Natasha?”

“No. Where are you?” The red head questioned him. “Three people have asked me if your seat was taken or not. They’re getting suspicious.”

Tony weaved his way through the crowd, finally spotting the D gate. “Don’t dwell on it, I’ll be there soon. You got popcorn?”

He flashed the ticket to the guard waiting at the gate, who waved him through with ease. The light coming in through the opening seemed almost blinding at first, as Tony held a hand up to cover his eyes. 

“Of course. And your favorite soda, like requested.”

“Dr. Pepper?”

“Barf.” Natasha made a fake throwing up noise over the phone. “Why do you like that shit?”

The brunet quickly spotted Natasha in the crowd. Thank god for her hair.

“It’s good, don’t be rude. I see you, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright. See you in a minute.”

He returned his phone to its designated pocket after hanging up, walking down the small aisle. Natasha waved at him with a bright smile on her face, and he returned the favor. The students around them were screaming and jumping, which only made the boy want to cover his ears.

“Does your shirt say… Go Steve?” Tony asked as he sat down, leaning to get a better look. Natasha nodded, turning around to show him the big number seventeen on the back of her cropped shirt. “Wow, you really went all for it.”

The red head began searching through her bag, before throwing a jumbled up piece of blue cloth at him. Another shirt? “I made one for you too. But it has more glitter on it.”

“Thank you, Natasha.” He unfolded it, taking a good look. And boy, was it bright. If Steve didn't notice him in this, then nothing could draw the blonds attention. 

“You brought the suit with you too, right?”

“Yep, all prepared.”

“Gum? Chapstick?” She began to rifle through her own purse. “I have some if you need any.”

“For what?”

“You know for what.” She looked over at him, raising her eyebrows up and down. 

“You’re joking.” Tony shook his head. Steve wasn’t gay. The gaydar in Tony's head always sent some sort of signal when he was around the blond, but he dismissed it due to his own interests in the boy. “He isn’t interested.”

“I am most definitely not joking” Natasha responded with a shrug. “That boy is into you. Rumors about it too. He hasn't dated one girl since he's come here. So say what you want.”

“I will say what I want because I’m right.”

“Mhm. Totally.”

They stayed silent after that, the two of them listening to the chants going on around them and watching the cheerleaders do their routine. From time to time Tony would reach over and take some popcorn from the bucket on the red heads lap.

“Natasha, which one is your girlfriend?” 

“Wanda. She’s right there,” the girl pointed to a cheerleader in the crowd that was doing backflips. “Best person on that damn squad, the coach just doesn't see it.”

“She’s impressive. Let me tell you-- wait! Is that Steve? That’s number seventeen, right?” Tony exclaimed, standing up from his seat to confirm his sudden theory. “It’s Steve! Look at that!”

“I’ve never seen you so excited to see someone before.”

“Shut up.” Tony started to wave his hands in the air, “Rogers!”

“Tony, he can’t hear you. And the game hasn't even started yet. Wait until he makes a touchdown to start hollering for him.” Natasha handed him the shirt that she had made, “Put on the shirt, too.”

“He plays offense,” Tony told the girl, quickly changing his attire.

“I don't know what that means.”

“Me neither.”

✰

THE GAME WAS GOING WELL. Their own team was winning, the other 21 points behind. Tony was already positive that they would win, but still stayed on the edge of his seat the entire time. He knew nothing about football, but being supportive of Steve was something Tony was willing to do. 

It was already the last quarter, with the sun beginning to lower in the sky. Tony worried that Steve didn't even know if he was here or not. If he would even decide to show up in the first place.

“I bet you could get the attention of those cameras,” Natasha pointed out. “You would be on the big screen. Even if he didn’t see you, it would be talk for weeks. Playboy Stark Is Friends With Football Player Rogers!”

“How do I get its attention?”

“Scream? Who knows? It’s random from what I’ve seen. Or people with crazy outfits. Just like… stand up and go crazy. Do what you want.”

So Tony did exactly that, and the social anxiety he usually faced wasn't as evident anymore. Everyone here was standing up on their seats, yelling for whomever they were siding with. As he screamed and threw his arms in the air, he only hoped that the shirt would work.

“It’s no use, Natasha.” He told her, a frown coming upon his lips. 

“Tones…” She trailed off, pointing up to the screen. “I think it worked pretty damn well.”

His head snapped up in a flash, only to see an image of himself looking back. He laughed, flattening out his shirt for all to see. Go Steve!, in big bold glitter letters. He turned around to show the camera the number seventeen on the back. This was his moment, and hopefully the blond would see it too. Eventually.

“It worked! It worked, it worked, it worked!” He yelled, hugging the red head tightly. “Sorry, didn't mean to grab you that hard.”

“It's fine, I’m glad.”

✰

Tony
Waiting by the main gate. See you here soon.

Steve's heart leaped at the message.

Stevie
I see you.

Tony
Good to know. Do I look sexy?

Stevie
You look like you.

Tony
Is that a good thing?

Stevie
Pretty much.

Steve walked towards Tony, still wearing his sweaty and dirt covered football uniform. He could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead, some of it going onto his eyelashes or all the way down his neck. He rubbed his hand across his face in an attempt to get rid of it for the moment.

“God, you are sweaty,” Tony commented, his dark brown eyes looking Steve up and down. A playful smile was on his lips, a hint of humor in his look. “I’m liking the whole messy hair type of look going on here.”

Steve ran his hands through his hair purposefully to mess it up a bit more. He pressed his lips together to hide his smile. “This whole messy hair thing? Should I do it more often?”

“Yes, most definitely yes,” the brunet responded, nodding eagerly. In his hands, he held a small black box with a white bow on top. He noticed the fact that Steve had been staring at it. “Oh, this box is for you, by the way,” he explained, handing it over.

He held the box with care, looking at the messy scrawl at the top. Tony’s handwriting, no doubt.

For Steve.

With care, Tony.

“Thank you. It really does mean a lot to me.”

The sun setting in the sky left a glow on Tony’s face, making him look even more handsome. (Which Steve hadn't thought was even possible in the first place.) His tousled hair, his eyes and his lips. The blond was obsessed, but looked down at his shirt to conceal it.

“What… what does your shirt say?”

Tony flattened it out to give him a better look. Go Steve, in big golden letters, coated in glitter. He turned around to show him his own jersey number on the back. Seventeen.

Steve’s mouth parted in equal parts shock and awe. “Wow,” he breathed out, taking it all in. “You wore that… for me?”

Tony let out a short laugh. “Who else would I have worn it for, Rogers? Is there another Steve that I don't know about?” The smaller boy raised an eyebrow.

“No, of course not. I’m just--”

“Surprised?”

“Yes. Surprised. That’s a word for it.” Was there a word to describe being hit with one of Cupid’s Arrows? To describe the impeccable feeling of liking someone that doesn't like you back? “Did you make that yourself, or no?”

The brown haired boy shook his head, “Natasha made it for me.”

Steve didn't know Natasha all that well. Before Tony came around with tutoring, he had only ever asked her for homework answers and class notes. But even through that, he would be able to recognize her in a crowd in an instant. Her red hair and the tattoos covering her arms made her stand out.

“Tell her I said thank you.”

“Will do, pretty boy. I expect to be picking you up later this week?”

Pretty boy. Steve sucked in a sudden breath, the words repeating in his head.

“Yes, what day?” He asked.

“I’ll text you the details.”

“Bye, Tony.”

Tony, would you like to walk me back to my dorm and hang out for the night? Bucky wouldn't mind. Tony, would you like to go out with me? Tony, will you be my boyfriend? Even just for a day? Tony, Tony, Tony.

Steve wanted to say every single thought that ran through his head at the moment. To tell Tony everything, to trust him with his secret and to believe for even a second that a Stark would like him back. But he didn’t say any of it, maybe it just wasn't the right time for those types of confessions.

Was he just high off of adrenaline?

“Bye, Steve.”